


"How To Dress Gay" by Everyone But Steve

by Sabriel (the_one_a_m_writer)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Carol's fashion advice, First Kiss, Gay Panic, Getting Together, M/M, colleges implied, except there's very little mention of any collegeing?, i love that that's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 00:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18927961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_a_m_writer/pseuds/Sabriel
Summary: Steve gets helpful advice re: getting a guy to notice him from everyone-- including one such guy.





	"How To Dress Gay" by Everyone But Steve

Carol starts skipping. 

“Slow the FUCK down,” Sam says. “Don’t we have enough of your manic energy without the skipping?!”

“But aren’t you excited? We’re done with finals!” Carol shrieks, continuing to skip. “Natasha will skip with me. Natasha?”

Natasha does a little hop. “There.” 

“Bucky?”

“Can’t ruin my image,” he says, and quite an image he’s cultivated. Black jeans, black converse, black leather jacket and beanie, topped off with a tee shirt with a minimalist space design. 

“I’m Bucky and I only enjoy things ironically,” Peggy says, and sticks her tongue out at him. 

Sam chimes in, “I’m Bucky and I’d rather swelter in a jacket than ruin my image.” 

“I’m Bucky and I don’t fuck with mainstream--”

“I’m Bucky and shut the fuck up,” Bucky says. “I dress how I like.”

“At least he’s got a look,” Steve says somewhat gloomily. Carol turns around and starts walking backwards so she can stare at him. “I just sorta put the same shit on every day.” 

“The same shit” is jeans and a sweatshirt, so yeah, they can all see where he’s coming from here.

“Carol, please watch the fucking door,” Natasha sighs, and Carol turns just in time to prevent herself from slamming into the bar door. She pretends that grazing the door as she pirouetted around it was her intention all along, and leads the group inside and to a table. As soon as they’re settled in, Steve slumps. 

“We’ll find you a boyfriend, you miserable man,” Bucky says, slapping him on the back. 

“I’m getting drinks,” Sam says. “Anyone?”

They put in their orders and throw cash at him, and he goes, and the remaining group returns to Steve.

“I think it’s the look, or lack thereof,” Steve reiterates. “Three girls-- three girls came up to me last time. No guys. I need to look gay.” 

“Well, at least you’re attractive?”

“Yeah, but how do I look  _ gay _ ?”

“Just steal some of Bucky’s clothes again,” Peggy suggests. 

“He’s actually wearing my jeans,” Bucky points out. “That’s why his thighs look that good.”

Steve is dragged from his chair and presented like a mannequin. Peggy and Natasha stop to admire for a moment before Steve starts trying to wave the straight away like flies. “Should I have gone with Bucky’s style?”

“He looks kinda gay, but mostly like a hipster,” Natasha determines. 

“I don’t  _ need _ to look gay, I just go up to men and ask if they wanna dance.” 

“Or women.”

“Or wo-- that’s not gay.” 

“Right.” 

“The jeans are tight enough that it’s a little gay,” Natasha says, returning to Steve’s clothing choices.

“Push the sleeves up to your elbows,” Carol suggests. Then she reaches forward to do it herself, plucking at the fabric on Steve’s arms until it’s to her liking. “Buck, any chance you have hair gel on you?”

“Who do you think I am?” Bucky asks, crossing his arms and leaning back. Undeterred, Carol rifles through his vegan-recycled-whatever-the-hell black cloth bag. 

“You fucking fake,” Carol says, withdrawing hair gel. “Steve, c’mere.”

“Un _ for _ tunately,  _ my _ hair doesn’t look this perfect naturally, you butch fucker.” 

Carol’s hair is chopped short and she reportedly doesn’t brush it. Like, at all. 

Steve obediently replaces Peggy next to Carol and sits through Carol dragging her hands through his hair until it’s in a little more order. “Do I look gay yet?”

“Oh, this is what we’re doing?” Sam says, returning with drinks. 

“Steve’s trying to look more gay.”

“He needs accessories,” Sam says. 

“We don’t have any accessories for him. Steve, couldn’t you have had this crisis before we left?”

“Do I move like a gay person? Carol moves like a lesbian.”

Carol, currently doing her best Gay Sprawl across the chair, does not dispute this verbally or by example. 

“No,” Bucky says. “I’m putting that out there. You move like an athlete.” 

“Because I am one!” 

“Do you want tips?” Peggy asks. 

“Yeah...” Steve says, wary. He’s not sure he’s trying to imitate a femme bi woman. 

“Move your hands like Natasha does,” Peggy says, as Natasha lifts her drink to her lips, pinky extended. Well, at least Natasha pulls guys. What the hell. Steve will bite. 

“What, so I act like I’m a girl?”

“Yes.” 

“Isn’t that a stereotype?”

“I don’t know what you fucking expected, Rogers, when you asked us to make you look more gay,” Bucky says. “Peggy, wanna dance?”

“I’d love to,” she says. “Good luck, boys and girls!”

“I  _ have _ a girlfriend,” Carol sniffs. 

“And Nat has a boyfriend, and I’m not looking,” Sam says. “That’s why Buck took Peggy, because they’re  _ looking _ and they’re gonna do it  _ effectively _ without Steve being such a downer.” 

“Am I really that bad?”

Carol pats him on the head. “You’re fine, sweetie, it’s just that every time we go out you have at least one crisis.”

“I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Every time?”

“Yeah.” 

It’s quiet around the table for a few moments and then Steve shakes himself a little and sits up straighter. He crosses his legs. “Like this?”

“Sort of gay, but you could do better,” Natasha says. “Stand up, so I can see you.” Steve does. “Lead your hand movements with the wrist.” 

Steve flings his hand around awkwardly for show for a minute and then falls back into a semblance of poise.

“Your-- goddammit, Rogers, did you push your sleeves down again?”

Steve looks, and he has. He didn’t even notice. “I’ll--”

However he’s pushing his sleeves up is apparently not sitting right with Carol, who shoves his sleeves back into place brutally. Sam laughs. 

“You could help,” Steve says. 

“I’m not qualified, man, I ain’t gay.” 

“We got the hair gel, the skinny jeans--” 

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” says a voice, and the table freezes. Steve pivots lightly on his heel and ends up with one hand upraised, wrist cocked. 

There’s a guy there. He’s pretty short, so the first thing Steve notices is the slight curl to his hair, and he’s dressed rather impeccably in skinny jeans, converse, and a button down and a vest. 

A vest. 

And he’s cute, oh yeah, that too, Steve thinks, taking in the shape of his face and the strain of his sleeves over his biceps and the little glimmer from his eyes that indicates that they’ll be amber in the light. 

“But isn’t the best way to look gay to be with a man? I, myself, am an expert, as it happens,” he says, propping his foot on the heel and gesturing to his chest. “ _ And _ , I’m offering.” 

“Offering... what?” Steve says dumbly, his brain screaming  _ hot guy hot guy hot guy hot guy _ and being generally useless. 

The guy searches Steve’s face for a moment, and says, “I mean, of course, if I’ve overstepped... sorry. Personal space, I gotchu,” and makes to turn around. Carol loses it. 

“He’s interested!” she shrieks, shoving Steve forward in the direction of Hot Guy. “Go get your mans, you fucking useless gay!” 

“Oh, I...?  _ OH! _ ” Steve yelps, getting it at last, and catches up with Hot Guy in the three steps he’s managed to get away. “I, uh, hi, you’re gay? I’m gay.” 

“I kinda figured, what with the looking gay lessons,” the guy says wryly, smiling again, albiet cautiously. Steve wishes he had a time machine so he could go back and punch himself in the face for saying that.

“I mean, um, you’re cute? What’s your name?” Steve says. 

“Tony.” 

“I’m Steve,” Steve says. “I’m sorry I’m so fucking dumb.” 

“It’s fine, you’re cute too,” Tony says breezily, and takes his hand. “There. Now you look gay.” 

“See,” Steve says, his heart starting to flutter as he considers chasing his luck. “We could just be, like, friends? But if I kissed a guy, now?”

“That would look gay,” Tony says sagely. “Well. I’ll offer that too, I suppose.” 

He makes his enthusiasm clear, though, by being the one to go onto his tiptoes and reach his arms around Steve’s neck, to pull Steve down to him and initiate the kiss. God, can he kiss. Within seconds, Steve’s jelly, with Tony’s mouth on his and his hands and his body pressed tight against Steve’s. Tony finally breaks for air and pops back down on his heels, but when Steve leans down to follow him, he holds up a hand. “I’m running outta time. Can I see you again?”

After a few seconds of staring and gasping, Steve collects himself and says, “Can I get your number?”

“Yeah, here.” Tony digs in his pocket and unearths a sharpie, which he uncaps; then he grabs Steve’s arm and starts writing on the skin revealed by his pushed-up sleeves. 

“Why do you have a sharpie?”

“Marking sheet metal,” Tony says, as if that’s normal. “See you later, darling, I gotta go, meeting you was kinda my last act of the night but I’m glad I did. Listen. I promise I’ll answer, when you call, okay, you’re hot as hell,  _ please _ call me. Bye!”

He whisks away and Steve is left standing a good two yards away from the booth where he started. Carol instantly shatters his entire vibe by wolf-whistling. 

Steve comes over, grinning from ear to ear, and displays Tony’s number proudly. 

“He’s so cute,” he starts, and Sam groans. 

“What?” Natasha asks.

“He’s gonna do this shit for the next three months,” Sam says, “you just made him more useless!” 

“Fuck you,” Steve says amicably, and proceeds to annoy the shit out of everyone by gushing about his boyfriend for much longer than the next three months. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you love me find the prompts welcome stories and prompt me


End file.
